This has been the first year in a long time that I’ve been around to hand out candy to trick-or-treaters, so I wanted to do it right — Will bought a bunch of full-size candy bars, I got out a pen and paper to score the costumes, and we turned on every light in the house, the better to lure small children with.
But first, we invented a new sport, as is the Halloween tradition (apparently). It’s called Hallway SoccerTennisFootball, and it involves me and Will kicking a tennis ball back and forth down our long hallway while the dog tries to grab it away from us. Tackling the dog is allowed, as is relentlessly pelting the dog with shouts of “CHOOSE YOUR FAVORITE PARENT!”
Also, as it turns out, horse head mask + dog = utterly terrifying.
Once we’d tired the dog and ourselves out with that–and Will had fallen on his ass, which was a delight to watch — it was time to receive the estimated thousands of children into our candy-coated arms. Only one problem — the front of our house is heavily obscured with trees (well, there’s one less this week thanks to the hurricane), and the back door is a back door, which by Halloween standards and practices is not a preferred method of approach. So when Will looked out the window and said, “Those kids just skipped us,” it was starting to look pretty grim.
(Speaking of Grims, I got a tweet from a fan who dressed as Lex for Halloween. This made my friggin’ year.)
But we did get some kids, which I will rate for you now:
Right out of the gate, we get a zombie–and by zombie I mean the kid tore a small slit in his shirt and threw a little fake blood on it. WHAT IS THIS, AMATEUR HOUR? Some two-second scissor work and a splash of pomegranate juice? This did not deserve a full-size candy bar. This did not even deserve a fun-size–due to the total lack of fun–but, being a good neighbor, I approached with a smile anyway.
But here’s the kicker: when I opened up the door with the bowl of candy, he bleated: “HOW MANY CAN I HAVE?” At which point I went blind with rage and steam began to pour out of my ears. Somehow I managed to chuck a Kit-Kat at him and shut the door, then proceeded to rant about how children don’t respect their elders and that how when he said “Trick or Treat” I should have yelled TRICK and then smashed a pie in his face. Will smiled politely and let me yell, as he always does, which I appreciate.
Zombie Score: Negative 5 million.
Next, we got a group of kids that included: a princess, a wizard, Batman, and…something that looks like Spongebob Squarepants? We tried to figure out what the big yellow blob was as we handed out the candy…and then it dawned on us.
The kid was CHEESE.
Let me tell you something: if anything could have lifted me out of the funk left by that ingrate zombie, it was a child dressed as my favorite dairy product. I don’t know who I love more–the kid, for being my soulmate, or the mom, who said something to the effect of: “He wanted to be cheese. So I said, okay. Cheese.” I stopped short of dumping the entire bowl of candy into the kid’s bag and/or kidnapping him outright, but know this, kid: you are awesome.
Princess, Wizard, Batman score: 5
Cheese score: 10 billion
At this point I had to go take the dog for a walk and made the mistake of leaving Will in charge of both the candy distribution and the costume-record-keeping. Needless to say, I was greatly disappointed to come back and find the pitiful note: “A ninja and a pair of Scream kids.” But what KIND of ninja? And was the duality of the Scream kids perhaps a commentary on the movie and the identify of the killer(s)? Ugh. If you want something done right, you don’t let Will do it.
Husband score: 0
Next we got a Katniss and…IS THAT A DOG IN A PRINCESS COSTUME, COMPLETE WITH SPARKLY POINTY HAT?
It was a dog in a princess costume, complete with sparkly pointy hat. I’m not exactly sure what kind of zany buddy comedy would lead to Katniss and Princess Dog ending up together, but that is a television show I would watch, without question, until the end of time.
Katniss Score: 8
Princess Dog Score: 100 (700 in dog scores)
And that was it. Once we started to get the feeling no one else was coming, I prepared a cheese plate (in honor of the best costume of the night) and we settled down to play some board games. Namely, the never-opened, random-ass board games we’d been given long ago as well-meaning-but-way-off-the-mark Christmas presents, such as CSI: The Board Game and (I’m not making this up) Dilbert: Escape from Cubeville.
The Dilbert game was surprisingly enjoyable, and the CSI game was like a much more convoluted version of Clue. The best part of that one was that I got to be Gil Grissom. I went a little mad with power, shouting “THERE IS NO MORE GINA, THERE IS ONLY GIL GRISSOM!” until Will said no more
alcohol cheese for me and Halloween was declared officially over.
But the spirit of Gil Grissom lives on.
Hope you had a great night!